


A Dance For Two

by maurquez



Category: Rent - Larson
Genre: F/F, F/M, nerdos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-05 00:34:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16800166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maurquez/pseuds/maurquez
Summary: If you don't like dancing, an attractive stranger is bound to change your mind.





	1. Chapter 1

It was said that a person's dorm room could tell a lot about them.

Joanne's room... well... it was a more accurate analysis than she'd like to admit. She had virtually infinite drawers, each stacked to the brim with books and papers and socks ~~~~organised in perfect order. A bulletin board was proudly displayed above her bed, detailing the events of the month in clean bullet-point format. The only thing close to a stain was a dent on her wooden desk, a scar from when she'd banged her fist against it in frustration at a tricky calculus problem.

Everything was tidy. Everything was perfect.

If the saying was true, her and Claudia Ambroise were pretty much total opposites.

Miniature Twix wrappers were littered across her bed, and an embroidered pillow was carelessly against the floor. She had more posters than actual wall _,_ and Joanne only knew what maybe two of them were meant to show. An old rap song blasted at full volume. And the worst part? It was _endearing._ This girl willingly decorated her dorm to look like the bottom of a dumpster, and it was _endearing._ While Joanne's meticulous cleaning was seen as "uptight" at best. She rolled her eyes and wondered how girls like her got away with everything under the moon.

"Once again, I forget to turn off the dang stereo," Claudia said, and Joanne winced at the curse word. "Seriously, Jo? _Dang_ is bad to you?"

"Not... bad," Joanne explained, blushing for an inexplicable reason. "Just weird, I guess. Haven't heard much of those kinda words being used."

Claudia grinned mischievously, and Joanne was star-stuck at just how gorgeous she was. She was short and chubby, with auburn hair down to her waist and a freckle for every star in the universe. Everything that came out of her mouth sounded so matter-of-fact, bursting with the confidence Joanne could only dream of emulating. And she was witty and funny and _everything_ and...

 _Woah._ Was Joanne a little... gay for Claudia?

She brushed it off. Claudia was probably straight - there was a rumour that she'd kissed seven boys near the water fountain, and how much more heterosexual could you get than that? And she was _this_ close to making a genuine friend. She couldn't mess it up just because of a little heart flutter here and there.  
  
"Oh, okay," Claudia said. "But trust me, you'll _really_ get used to it if you talk to me."

Claudia reached into one of her drawers - it was jam-packed with crumpled flashcards - and pulled out a bottle of something Joanne barely recognised to be whiskey. She gulped it down, wincing, for about three seconds before extending it to Joanne.

"Want some?" she asked, giggling hysterically. If it were anybody else, Joanne would be downright annoyed.

"I'm not, I mean, I don't-" Joanne stuttered anxiously, before Claudia's mischievous smirk caught her eye. "You know what? Pass me that stuff."

Ever since she was eight and offered to give her schoolbag to her particularly cute classmate, Joanne possessed a surprising knack for doing stupid things for girls she liked. 

She tentatively took a sip, and spat it out the second it touched her tongue. In all teenage movies, your first alcoholic beverage was meant to be a grand declaration of "getting older" or "loosening up" or something like that. But it wasn't life-changing: it was _disgusting_. "It tastes like... spicy rat pee? And... w-why is it burning my nose?"

Claudia laughed, which naturally made Joanne break into a tiny smile herself. "You are _so_ adorable," she commented, placing a gentle kiss on her cheek. Joanne felt her face flush hot. "But c'mon, Jo! Try it again!"

"This is totally peer-pressure," Joanne laughed, but she took another drink nonetheless. It tasted as horrible as the first time, and the sting was relentless, but nonetheless she felt a warm sensation spread across her body. "It's still rat pee. Do people actually _like_ this?"

Apparently, she'd said exactly the right thing for Claudia to be amused. "I _know_ , right? You see, it grows on you. But that's pretty much what I said when my ex-girlfriend introduced me to it. Like, verbatim."

 _Ex-girlfriend?_ The other girl chugged some more of the beverage, then shoved it back into her drawer. She took an exaggeratedly shaky breath. "Okay, Claudia. _Focus._ We're not here for a drinking contest."

Joanne groaned. "Oh, _right_ ," she muttered. "You were going to teach me how to tango or somethin'? For the Winter Dance? I'm warning you, I've got the skills of a three-legged dog."

"You're _hilarious_ ," Claudia declared. "And, yeah, you've said that. Fortunately for you, you've made friends with a very outstanding dancer. Come here?"

"Wow, way to be modest," Joanne snorted, but Claudia was smiling at her so eagerly that she couldn't help but move closer regardless. "And I don't even know if I'm going. I dunno, finals are in two weeks, and you know, I really should be studying and stuff..."

Claudia's smile stretched even wider. Seriously, Joanne was _not_ that funny. "Well, that's chill, too. I mean, I _was_ gonna ask you to go with me. But I get if you don't want to go, midterms _are_ important and all that..."

"No!" Joanne exclaimed before she could help herself. "I mean, I-I can study later. If... do you... really want to go with me?"

"Aw, it took you this long to notice?" Claudia asked, chuckling to herself. "But, yes, dummy! Just take my hand, Jo. We're gonna dance."


	2. The Rabbi's Daughter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alas, a SEQUEL to a one-shot. I've been planning this for a while now, but I've never got around to writing it due to my lack of knowledge about Jewish community centres.

The tango wasn't even particularly Jewish, but somehow learning it was of utmost importance.

It wasn't even as if Mark could think of a time where this would be useful. The combination of being trans and painfully in the closet meant that he couldn't go to school dances without the expectation of wearing some sort of dress, so that was completely ruled out. And it wasn't as if he was remotely attractive enough to have a girlfriend... or boyfriend... to do the dance with in actuality. What else was there? The off-hand chance he'd be invited to a royal ball?

Nope. There was _no way_ Mark would gain anything of benefit by learning how to tango.

Nanette Himmelfarb grinned at him, her elegant movements in sharp contrast with Mark's eternal clumsiness. Dancing with the Rabbi's daughter made his palms sweaty and caused a nervous feeling to blossom in his stomach - it was sort of like dancing with your _boss._ That is, if his boss was fifteen years old... and, from an entirely objective standpoint, very pretty.

It wasn't as if he'd never seen her before - he guessed his dad was acquainted with hers, so they'd spent quite a lot of time crossing paths and uttering shy greetings to each other. And they attended the same Support Group for trans people, though Nanette didn't show up all that much. But this was pretty much the closest they'd had to independent conversation, and yet neither of them had spoken a word.

Mark wondered if the next five minutes were going to be spent in total silence.  
  
"Oh, wow, he's _so cute_ ," Nanette murmured, her voice barely loud enough to hear. His eyes widened in shock. It wasn't possible that she could be talking about _him_ , was it? No. No, it wasn't. Because a beautiful girl like Nanette would never be interested in... well, Mark. _Or could she?_

"Wait, what?" Mark asked instinctively, and then immediately cursed himself for speaking at all. Nanette looked as if she'd been snapped right out of a dream, and her cheeks flushed a warm red.

" _Please_ ," Nanette rambled. "I did not say that out loud. Did I?Wait, don't tell me, I don't want to know. Argh, wait, I do!"

"I think... you did," Mark said, and Nanette's expression was positively mortified. "B-but I mean, it's fine or whatever. Uh, you're cute, too. Like, really cute. So you've _totally_ got nothing to worry about." 

If he miraculously hadn't blown his chances by looking like a disfigured swamp monster, his lack of eloquence would certainly do the trick. But he scanned Nanette's face for judgement and found only relief... and a little bit of confusion.

"Wait, really?" Nanette asked. "You think I'm cute? Even though I'm, you know, _me_?"

Mark wondered how on Earth a girl like Nanette could possibly be that insecure. Then he realised she might have had the same thought about him, and suddenly his cheeks were the same colour as Nanette's.

"Uh, yeah," Mark blurted. " _Especially_ because you're you."

Nanette grinned - and her smile was the most amazing one he'd ever seen. "Oh. Okay. Wow. I'm... should I? I'm really gonna regret this. But... uh, here goes!"  
  
Before Mark had the time to properly blink in confusion, Nanette gave him a hurried kiss and he felt as though his heart was going to burst into a million pieces of confetti. He was thinking about how she could have any guy (or girl) she wanted, and somehow she'd chosen him. And then he gathered the courage to kiss her back, and he stopped thinking about anything other than _her_.

It only lasted for about a second, but in that brief moment at the Scarsdale Jewish Community Centre, it was everything. 


End file.
